Goodbye Flatlands, Hello León: Hills, Gothic Cathedrals, and Rustic Bread
After days of relentless flat terrain, it felt glorious to sleep in. The sun was already up, and the other pilgrims had departed, but I was eager to get moving despite yesterday's lingering soreness. Our goal was León, and with it, to finally leave the endless Meseta behind.
Cows kept us company on the approach to the old castle-fort city of Mansilla de las Mulas. As usual, nothing was open, but our pace didn't falter. The sun was not cooperating for photos, and then a bird decided to poop on my shirt. Chocolate, for anyone who asked. A badge of shame I wore the rest of the day.
Finally, the hills returned! Small at first, but they broke up the endless horizon. Larger ones waited in the distance, teasing us with their challenge. Over the first hill: nothing, just more towns.
Breakfast came at a quirky little bar in Villarmoros, hidden away in a town square patterned with white and yellow polka dots. They served fresh Spanish tortilla and bocadillos, and I indulged in both. From there, Villarente and Arcahuega fell quickly as we powered through 12 kilometers of highway, downtown streets, and occasional riverside paths.
Construction diverted us into a more challenging route into León. The uphill stretch on pavement felt endless, but eventually led into the woods, and what a sight it was after the trees cleared. We raced down a dirt path onto a county road, following markers into the city. I always love the transition from modern to old towns, especially when you enter a walled city.
Finding the Benedictine church Albergue proved tricky. We asked directions from at least three locals and added two extra kilometers before finally locating it. Crissi and I ventured out for food and found a bar serving 'rustic bread', thick slices topped with whatever they could dream up. It was so good we brought Bianca there too.
Exploring León felt like a true tourist day. First, the cathedral: gothic, massive, and awe-inspiring. We convinced two other pilgrims to join us for the group ticket discount. Then a basilica, a Gaudí-designed house, and the city park. We ended the day with beers at a bar, people-watching, and a reunion with Ciro, who was limping badly after losing most of his toenails to his shoes. A stark reminder that the Camino leaves its mark in more ways than one.
Dinner was a pilgrims menu at the restaurant next to the church, with a discount for staying at the Albergue. The walk today had been relatively easy, with plenty of stops for food, water, and rest. A welcomed reprieve before whatever tomorrow holds. Only two weeks remain until Santiago, and yet nights in places like Logroño and Nájera feel both centuries ago and just yesterday.